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Chapter Three

I suggested we all pile back to mine where I would cook us a midnight feast and we could discuss Sinead’s plan for us to attend ‘Fire up your life with Chelsea Aurora Moonbeam for £9.95’ on the way.

Steph and Sinead always marvelled at how I cooked up such treats on a shoestring budget and they jumped at the offer. It also meant we could swing by the off licence and I could make even more savings on my budget.

As we approached my flat, I saw Connor’s car outside. He was talking on the phone and as the three of us approached, he gave a wave and carried on his conversation on the telephone. I could see he’d had his hair cut and while he looked great, I couldn’t help but wonder how much it had cost. His beloved car, which I was never allowed to drive, seemed to look shinier than usual too and I wondered if he had paid for some ridiculous valeting service, further eating into our savings.

‘How much did that cost?’ I said as he got out of the shiny car.

‘I’ve missed you too, babe,’ he said, smiling.

That smile. And those crinkly eyes. And his general smoking hotness. At one time, it was all enough to make me melt, but I was still so cross about the anniversary dinner, he’d have to do a better job than that.

‘I suppose you want to come in then,’ I said.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. He tilted his head to the side and I admit I started to melt a little before I straightened myself up, determined not to be swayed by his charms. I needed to let him know how cross I was.

‘You could have called,’ I said.

‘You know I have to work, Fiona,’ he said.

It wasn’t that I minded he worked so late or even that I didn’t get to see him as often as I liked, it was the thoughtlessness. What was he doing that kept him so busy, he couldn’t even send a text? Yes, it was important that we both worked hard and put everything we could in the joint savings account, but the sociable aspect of his job meant a lot of the time these ‘meetings’ he went to were nothing short of going out clubbing. I reminded myself that once we had the money saved to get a place, he wouldn’t have to ‘network’ so hard, and I might get to have my Saturdays back.

Steph and Sinead looked a bit embarrassed and said a quick hello to Connor before saying their goodbyes, hugging me and walking back towards Steph’s house, leaving me and Connor alone.

‘Come in then,’ I said.

He grabbed his bag out the boot, a Luis Vuitton hold-all I hadn’t seen before.

‘Is that new?’ I said.

‘We’ve talked about this before, Fiona. I have to look the part, don’t I?’ Looking the part was one thing, but if he hadn’t even earned what he was spending, I was worried he wasn’t saving enough for us. I didn’t know if it even mattered to him any more. He seemed to be more concerned about status and being seen to be cool than spending any time with me.

We went into the kitchen where he dumped his bag by the washing machine and headed for the fridge.

‘Anything to eat? I’m starving’ he said, rooting through the fridge and freezer.

‘I cooked for you yesterday,’ I said.

‘I know, I know,’ he said ‘I’m sorry, but I was sorting out a really good deal. I’m doing it for us, for our future. Five year plan, remember?’

‘And what then,’ I asked, folding my arms.

‘How do you mean?’ he said picking with his fingers at the leftover lasagne I had earmarked for Sunday lunch.

‘Yeah, well I’m not entirely sure about the plan any more,’ I said. ‘I was thinking of doing something else. Leaving work, getting a different job. Maybe going back to college.’ I’d been thinking about it all day. Steph was right, I had spent too long plotting and planning and I was missing out on stuff.

‘We’ve talked about this,’ he said ‘We’ll get our own place first and then you’ll be able to do whatever you want.’

‘But I want to leave now, I hate it there. I’ve been there too long. It’s okay for you, you’re doing what you love. What about me?’

‘Fi,’ he said. ‘You know you can’t. I thought we were saving?’

‘Well maybe I don’t want to be saving, maybe I want to be living now.’

‘Maybe I could move in here,’ he said, spooning my lasagne into his mouth without any thought about what he was doing or saying. ‘Save some money that way?’

I thought about it for a split second and then his bag by the washing machine caught my eye. Did I really want him moving in here to my one bed flat, coming back at all hours, only to never see him?

I shrugged and leant back against the counter.

‘Maybe we should have a break?’ I suggested. I wasn’t sure whether this was what I wanted but I did want to see how he reacted.

‘Like a holiday?’ he said, ‘I don’t think we could afford that.’ I couldn’t believe he was so arrogant that he hadn’t even considered I meant a break as in splitting up.

I stared at him in disbelief for a second and then considered whether to push the issue. What would he think if I told him I wanted to split up? The thought of it frightened me, it was such a massive change. Steph was right, I did hate change. Connor had appeared in my life as I was formulating my plan and I had taken it as a sign that we were meant to be. I had changed my plan to accommodate him in it, adding ‘Get married by thirty’ to it. Splitting up with him now felt like I would be giving up and it terrified me.

‘So what exactly are we’re going to do when we’ve saved up all the money, at the end of the five year plan?’

‘You know,’ he said grabbing a fork and starting on another dish. ‘We’ll buy a place, live together.’ He paused and looked at me. ‘Live the dream.’

‘What’s your dream?’ I asked.

‘Being with you,’ he said. ‘You know. Marriage, kids and stuff, all of that. We can do what we want.’

‘How romantic. Is that a proposal?’ I said.

‘If you like,’ he laughed.

‘When?’

‘When we have the savings. When the five years are up. Going to grab a shower, yeah?’ he said.

I headed off to bed feeling exhausted and was dozing off when Connor returned from the bathroom, got under the covers and went to sleep.

‘Happy bloody anniversary,’ I said to him.

*

Connor was taking up the whole of the bed in the morning and I knew he wouldn’t surface until noon so I sloped off to the living room and began the day lying on the sofa watching Country Tracks, wishing I hadn’t had that last glass of wine last night.

After Connor had gnawed the corners off all my food last night, I would have another day’s cooking ahead of me, rustling up some new creations for the week. Maybe Connor would let me use his precious car to go to Waitrose for some posh ingredients. I was still cross with him for missing our anniversary dinner and not calling, but after I’d slept on it I felt happy that at least he’d said he wanted to marry me, even if it was the most half-hearted proposal ever. At least he was trying.

The landline phone ringing startled me, but at least I knew who it was. ‘Hello, Mum.’ Who else uses the landline?

‘Have you forgotten you’re to come to dinner?’

‘No, of course I haven’t.’ I had.

‘I bet you’re not even dressed, are you? Is Connor with you? Will he be bringing you in that lovely car of his?’ I could hear the exasperation in her voice.

‘Yes, he’s here, and we’re leaving now, in fact.’ I lied again as I struggled out of my pyjamas.

‘Oh, how lovely,’ she said. ‘I’ll be delighted to see him. You’ve got a real winner there. A real winner!’ I actually thought at one point she might even applaud.

‘Yep. Really lovely, Mum. Have to go, I’ll see you in a bit.’ I hung up and ran up the stairs to Connor.

‘Wake up,’ I shouted on the way up the stairs. ‘We have to go to Mum and Dad’s.’

He stirred under the duvet, his brand new haircut had messed up during the night.

‘Come back to bed,’ he said.

‘I can’t, we have to go, come on get up.’

‘I’ve got a meeting,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to go as soon as my washing is dry. Will you stick it in the dryer for me?’

‘As soon as your washing is dry?’ I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. Just when I had decided to be a little more sympathetic about his long working hours and putting his lack of contact down to forgetfulness, he came out with this.

‘Is that all you’ve come here for, to get your washing done and somewhere to kip for the night? You absolute utter knob head.’

I dashed back down the stairs, pulled all of his still wet washing out the machine into the basket and ran back up the stairs as fast as I could. Then I tipped the big pile of wet clothes all over the bed.

‘Here’s your bloody washing!’ I said.

‘Don’t be like that Fi,’ he said, struggling to get out from underneath. ‘I didn’t mean it that way.’

‘Well how did you mean it then?’ I said. ‘What could you possibly mean other than you’re treating the place like a hotel? I don’t see you for a week and then you turn up with your shiny car, your hundred pound haircut, and your crap proposal.’

‘Come on Fiona, please?’ he said, standing up. ‘I want you to help me out a bit.’

‘And I want you to make an effort,’ I said, thinking about how if I did have four cats, they wouldn’t expect me to do their washing for them.

‘I’ll make an effort, I promise, give me a chance. It’s almost September, things will quieten down soon,’ he pleaded with me.

‘I have to go,’ I said, turning and leaving the room.

‘At least let me give you a lift,’ he said.

Despite not wanting to be anywhere near him, I did want to get to Mum’s on time, so I reluctantly agreed. But I ignored him the whole way there.

‘Look, I’ll be back later,’ he said as I was getting out of the car ‘I promise.’

‘I don’t want you to come back later,’ I said and I slammed the door on the car.

Connor used to be such a big part of my plan. I knew people said relationships weren’t easy, but it felt like ours was hard work all the time. At times it was so awkward, like I didn’t know him at all, not like I’d spent five years with him. And I didn’t want it to be hard work, I wanted it to be easy and fun and to be with someone who made me laugh, and who looked after me. Someone I felt safe with. As it was, Connor had now become another one of the things that was not going right with my five year plan. That and the fact that my five year plan had so far taken six years…

*

Why do people insist on having a roast dinner whatever the weather, just because it’s Sunday? Blisteringly hot outside and my parent’s kitchen was like a sauna. All the windows were steamed up after excessive vegetable boiling in The Massive Saucepan.

I‘m not entirely sure where I developed a love of cooking from, but it probably had something to do with that saucepan.

‘Can we open the back door, at least?’ I asked.

‘No, we’ll have next door’s cat after the roast.’ Mum insisted.

‘Makes a change from rice pudding,’ said Dad, putting his Sunday paper down.

Mum didn’t get it. Me and Dad both laughed as Mum attempted to remove blackened Yorkshires from an oven tray.

‘Where’s that poser of a boyfriend, then?’

‘Working,’ I said, not wanting to think about him or get Mum started on how marvellous he was again. I was still seething with him.

‘Never done a decent day’s work in his life, I bet’ Dad muttered. Dad wasn’t in the Connor fan club like Mum was.

‘Oh what a thing to say!’ said Mum, ‘Fiona’s done herself proud managing to catch someone like Connor. I wonder when you will get married. Maybe you could do what Brendan and Katie next door did and get married abroad.’

She was spooning peas onto the plate now, rapidly.

‘Careful with those peas Maureen,’ Dad said.

She ignored him and carried on piling peas until they were reaching critical mass.

‘I don’t think he’s that keen anyway,’ I said, wondering if he was planning to ask me properly. A proper proposal.

‘Don’t be silly Fiona, I am sure he will be asking you any day now.’

‘Now they’re back from their honeymoon, Brendan and Katie are taking their whole family on a fake-cation. The whole family and all the grandchildren. Can you imagine?’ She looked wistful and said ‘A Fay Cay Tion’ again quietly, punctuating the air with her fork after each syllable.

‘And what the bloody hell is a fake-cation when it’s at home?’ Dad asked her, putting his knife and fork down.

‘Well,’ she began, taking a breath and then putting on her posh phone voice. ‘Say if you really wanted to go to the Bahamas, well, you don’t go to the Bahamas, you go to Costa Brava or to Devon to a place they make look like the Bahamas. So they go to Lloret de Mar but they stay at the Hotel Caribe and they eat Caribbean food and have themed dances and they pretend they are in the Bahamas. It’s all themed you see. Oh can you imagine. It’s a themed Fay Cay Tion.’ Again, with the punctuation fork. She looked so pleased with herself.

‘And what would be the bleeding point of that, now?’ said Dad, winking at me.

‘It’s for the recession!’ she said sharply.

‘What do you mean, it’s for the recession? That bloody lot could afford to go to the real thing if they wanted. They must be earning a fortune, big house like that.’ He muttered something about council tax bands.

I was enjoying Dad having a go at the neighbours.

‘But that’s the wonderful thing. They said they can afford to go to the Bahamas but they wanted to go on the fake-cation anyway. They said they wanted to give something back. Isn’t that wonderful? All the money they have and they want to give something back.’ She beamed. She was calmer now having been on holiday in her head with the Callaghans.

She turned to me. ‘Wouldn’t you like to go on a fake-cation? It would make me so proud if you did, Fiona. Maybe you could ask Connor to take you.’

I took this to mean ‘Wouldn’t you like to be like the next door neighbours and marry Connor and then go on a fake-cation?’

‘Of course I bloody well would! Who bloody well wouldn’t want to go on a fake-cation? But as it is, I am probably going to get four cats instead and be a mad cat lady and I am never going to see the end of my five year plan – and right at this very moment, I am not entirely sure that Connor is the person for me or whether I ever want to get married and would actually prefer to live out my days like Doris and have as many cats as I can fit in my house.’ I’d said that out loud. More kind of shouted it. Mum and Dad both looked concerned about my enthusiasm for a fake-cation and the four cats. I hoped she wasn’t going to say ‘It’s okay if you don’t like men in that way.’ Like she used to before I met Connor.

‘You break my heart, Fiona.’ She had put her knife and fork down and was now wringing her hands.

‘Oh, leave her be, Maureen and eat your dinner,’ said Dad.

I felt my eyes filling up a little bit.

‘I tell you what, love,’ said Dad, noticing something was up, ‘if you really want to go on a fake-cation, why don’t you and Connor come to the caravan with me and your mum next weekend. I’ll paint a sign saying ‘Skegness One Mile’ and then it would be like a fake-cation because really we would be in Weston-super-Mare.’

I laughed and said I’d think about it.

Later on, Dad dropped me back at home at the flat and a fluffy black cat peeked at me from behind a bush and slowly made his way over.

‘So, what’s your story then?’ I asked him as I stroked behind his ears. ‘And is it good luck or bad you are bringing me?’ I can never remember. He was quite sweet with lovely big eyes. His fluff was deceptive though. I noticed as I stroked him, underneath he was really boney. I explained very clearly to him that if I fed him, it was in no way to become a regular thing as I was definitely not a cat person. At all.

I went back inside and grabbed a tin of tuna, emptied it into a bowl and presented it to him on the steps. He must have been starving as he ate it in a minute flat and had licked it almost clean.

I stayed up until about eleven and then went to bed, trying to sleep on the still slightly damp sheets where the washing had been earlier. My head was spinning with the weekend’s events. It hadn’t occurred to me before that I could abandon my plans of saving up, of being with Connor, of us moving in together – it was all so fixed in my head. When Steph and Sinead suggested I didn’t have to follow it, it seemed nothing less than crazy. I’d been working towards it for so long, that I felt afraid to do anything else. Maybe I’d wait until September and see if things would change, it was only another week or so and I could decide what to do about everything then.